


violets in her lap

by treztine



Series: set our hearts ablaze [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Future Fic, Hair-pulling, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treztine/pseuds/treztine
Summary: the one with violets in her laptremulous, worries petalswith lace–maker fingers(title inspired by a poem by sappho)a collection of nsfw alisaie/wol one shots. see table of contents for descriptions. mostly set in a vague future, some during shb.





	1. table of contents

  1. **table of contents**
  2. **precious little time** : poppy is distracted by a certain detail of her partner's new clothing, which leads to a far more pleasant distraction. [ _set vaguely during 5.0 (no spoilers)_ ]. contains: oral sex, mild hair pulling, biting
  3. **{summer indigo shirt} {high-quality}** : alisaie is a shirt thief. poppy retaliates. [ _set sometime in the future_ ]. contains: neck biting, fingering
  4. **the trouble with cherries** : a pie is left unbaked. [ _set sometime in the future_ ]. contains: oral sex, fingering
  5. **alive** : a victory well-earned is celebrated. [ _set after shb (vague spoilers)_ ]. contains: drunk sex, oral sex, fingering
  6. **adventurous** : poppy brings home some curiosities from the market. [ _set sometime in the future_ ]. contains: strap-ons, somewhat rough sex (light scratching, biting, and tail pulling)




	2. precious little time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poppy is distracted by a certain detail of her partner's new clothing, which leads to a far more pleasant distraction.  
> set vaguely during what will likely be the start of 5.0 (no spoilers)  
> sexual content ahead: oral sex, mild hair pulling, love bites

The midday sun was searing. While it was impossible to know for sure, she was at least fairly certain it was sometime around midday. Though, Poppy had long given up on keeping track of the bells that went by on the First. The days blended together into one long, excruciatingly bright expanse of time that offered no relief from the ruthless light she sought to expunge.

The ample foliage of Lakeland, at least, offered a meager respite. The purple-tinged leaves swayed overhead, casting dapples of cooling shadow along the path that she and Alisaie trod on towards the next encampment. They'd both volunteered to walk there and fetch some fresh supplies before the Scions' next foray into battle, and did so while cloaked in a comfortable silence that settled between them.

Even despite the brightness and the heat and the distance they traveled that stretched well over two malms, it somehow managed to be a pleasant excursion—peaceful, even, if she could force the issues at hand out of her mind for a moment. Belatedly, Poppy realized just how happy she was to be back in the familiar warmth of her partner's presence. If anything, at least they could endure the dangers that plagued the First together.

Her gaze was drawn just ahead to where the other woman walked a few paces before her, and it wasn't long before her traitorous eyes drifted downward along the seams of Alisaie's dress to where the hem ended. The crimson fabric shifted with each step, brushing against the small sliver of skin exposed along the tops of her boots. Poppy felt her mouth go a bit dry at the sight, but managed to convince herself that it was from the damnable heat—though, both her eyes and her thoughts lingered.

She'd first noticed that particular detail of the Elezen's new ensemble during a brief bout with the local wildlife. Alisaie was nearly as quick on her feet during battle as the Warrior herself was, but Poppy had spotted that enticing little gap of exposed skin as her partner charged the enemy and slew it in one fell swoop. And thus she _kept_ spotting it, for better or for worse, noticing how the dress hitched up ever so slightly every time Alisaie fought and sat and even walked—just as she did at that very moment. It was an ample distraction born of her own foolish mind, though a pleasant one at least.

Poppy knew it was rude to stare and even ruder to think certain improper thoughts all the while, but it couldn't be helped. Warmth sputtered to life in her gut despite her best efforts to focus on the task at hand. She still managed to tear her eyes away just in time before Alisaie slowed her pace to look over her shoulder.

"We've still about a malm to go and the remainder of the path is rather steep, if my memory serves me correctly," she said. "Shall we rest for a moment before we continue?"

Poppy flashed her a toothy smile. "Tired already, sweetling? I s'pose I can stop if you need to catch your breath."

"Says the woman who's been trudging slowly behind me the entire way," Alisaie shot back. Her tone was sharp, but the smirk that pulled on the corner of her mouth betrayed her good humor.

Poppy chuckled at that and stopped, watching Alisaie extend a hand out to lean against the trunk of a particularly shady tree with thick swaths of purple leaves that danced overhead. Again, the Warrior's eyes were drawn to her partner's legs when she reached down to fiddle with a strap on her boot. And _again_ , her mouth went dry as alluring thoughts flitted through her mind. If her beloved only knew _why_ it was that she trudged behind her, as she said, she'd surely box her ears off.

Something—a devious little something, perhaps—tugged Poppy forward as if by an invisible string, and she couldn't resist the urge to wrap her arms around the other woman's waist from behind. The sudden embrace prompted a small sound of surprise from Alisaie.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, amusement clinging to her words.

"Realized how much I missed you, is all," Poppy replied. Her voice was muffled when she nuzzled against the back of the other woman's neck, where her breath surely tickled.

"Sentimental fool," Alisaie quipped, but there was no sharpness to it. The fondness in her tone was abundantly clear and she paused before she replied, "I've missed you as well."

For a moment, Poppy's silly thoughts from before were buried under a wave of affection. They quickly bubbled back to the surface, however, as Alisaie leaned back against her and her own arms wound tighter around the other woman's waist, reminding her of their closeness and how long they'd been apart.

"Never got a chance to say this, but I like your new clothes," she said. Her voice lilted a bit too much to be innocuous, but Alisaie seemed to not notice.

"Is that so?" she asked, sounding both curious and amused enough to entertain the Warrior's oddness. "What is it that you like about them?"

Poppy paused to think. In truth, she liked just about every part of it. "The fluff's cute. Reminds me of a moogle pom." She brushed a cheek against the collar of Alisaie's coat, relishing in the softness of it and the chuckle the comment pulled from her. "And I like the color. Red suits you," she added in earnest.

"Flatterer," Alisaie chided with a tart bite, which made Poppy grin against her shoulder.

"It's true," she insisted. Her embrace loosened so that her hands could rest flat against Alisaie's sides to admire the finely crafted garment beneath her fingertips. The crimson coloring truly did compliment the fiery woman who wore it and she would've said so, but Poppy's mind was on other things as her hands slowly drifted downward. She lifted her head then, her lips brushing against Alisaie's ear just so to whisper her final comment, "But my favorite part is where the dress ends."

Poppy's wandering fingers soon found the hem and dipped below it, brushing against the front of her thighs in a way that made her meaning clear. Alisaie tensed against the touch and a sharp breath escaped her. Time seemed to slow as several breaths of silence slipped by, filled only with the gentle rustle of leaves. The Warrior froze, feeling sheepish suddenly for being so forward at such an inopportune time and in such an inappropriate place. Just as an apology found her lips, Alisaie turned her head just enough to peek at her from between the strands of her snowy fringe.

"Why don't you show me just how much you like it, then."

The whispered reply made the warmth within Poppy crackle into fire and the tips of her fingers burn. Alisaie spun on her heel and out of her embrace to smirk at the Warrior. Poppy stared back at her partner, stunned that she was so receptive to the flirting. Her gaze was half-lidded, suggestive, wordlessly mirrored the nagging need Poppy felt at being apart from her lover for so long.

A few moments of silent hesitation bloomed between them. There was much to be done and they could ill afford to dawdle for long. The ever present weight of responsibility was heavy on Poppy's shoulders and likely Alisaie's as well, but the breeze managed to push it away as if it were no more than a leaf. They'd been afforded precious little privacy since they reunited on the First. The wilds of Lakeland were a good a place as any for a well-earned moment alone.

Hesitation crumbled. They didn't waste what little time they had left. Alisaie pulled Poppy into the sheltering shadows cast by the tree and soon the Elezen was pressed between its trunk and the eager Warrior, gasping into her lover's mouth. Only muted breaths passed between them as grasping hands tangled into fabric and pulled, silently speaking their wants. It was messy and desperate and utterly perfect and Poppy could scarcely think of anything other than the woman pressed against her.

Poppy's fumbling grasp soon found Alisaie's hips before she shifted her attention downward to finally touch what she'd wanted to claim for so long. Her hands slid against the other woman's exposed thighs, gripped them, dragged sharpened nails against the sensitive skin over and over again, though she never tired of the feeling. Deft fingers played at the edge of her pantalettes and her thumbs slid beneath the fabric just enough to make Alisaie groan quietly against her lips. It was only when Poppy pulled away from their kiss to nip at her pulse that Alisaie spoke up.

"It’s not wise to do this here." The statement was a ragged, wet tickle against Poppy's neck.

"Probably not," the Warrior agreed before she dragged her teeth against the shell of her lover's ear.

"The others are waiting for us."

The words were little more than a gasp, as was the response.

"They are."

Their near-silent conversation wasn't urgent in the slightest and neither of them pulled away. Poppy's hands never left Alisaie's thighs, Alisaie's mouth continued to press against her neck, and it all went on for several long, delirious moments until the Warrior brushed a purposeful thumb against the front of her pantalettes. It was the other woman's sharp inhale and the way her hips shifted forward to meet her that made Poppy realize a change in position was in order.

She stepped back and out of Alisaie's embrace, enjoying the sight of the other woman's lips slightly parted in a silent question that matched her searing gaze in its intensity. Poppy's eyes flicked to the side to find the inviting sight a boulder that sat just behind the tree, half-hidden in the dense brush. She took Alisaie's hand and gave it a tug so that she would follow.

"Sit," she urged with a playful shove and watched as the other woman plopped down onto the rocky surface, looking feverish and just a bit bewildered. Without announcement or pretense, Poppy dropped to her knees before her lover. Her sharp teeth flashed beneath patches of sunlight in an unbidden grin at her newfound idea. 

"Here?" Alisaie asked, sounding incredulous.

The question ended in an endearing little squeak of surprise as Poppy settled between her legs and slid her palms over the tops of her thighs. The other woman looked around to survey the area, perhaps afraid of being spotted in such a compromising position. Her attention soon fell back on the Warrior whose head was precariously close to a spot that would certainly look indecent to the eyes of an outsider. Poppy sneered up at her, tilting her head to plant a gentle kiss on the inside of her leg, just above the cuff of her boot.

"Should I stop?" she asked with an innocent flutter of her lashes. Alisaie looked back at her, her gaze somehow managing to be both glaring and needy.

" _Gods no_."

The biting reply pulled a chuckle from Poppy, who again was reminded of how sorely she'd missed her partner's candor. Affection guided her hands to slip beneath the other woman's dress and reach for the band of the black pantalettes that sat on her hips. She pulled both them and her smalls down in one motion, watching Alisaie watch her in turn with a fervent, half-lidded gaze. The fabric slid down her legs just far enough to give Poppy enough room to lean further forward.

The Warrior nudged her way beneath the dress to brush her lips against the inside of Alisaie's thigh and her tongue flicked out to tease the supple skin for as long as she could bear. The threat of attack by wandering Sin Eaters along with the possibility of being caught by a passerby and the fact that the other Scions awaited their return were annoying little thorns in the back of her mind that forced Poppy's pace to be faster than she would've liked. Alas, drawn out teasing would have to wait until next time. Still, she offered more kisses than she could count as her hands wrapped around her lover's backside to urge her to shift forward. Alisaie complied and then let out a muted gasp when the Warrior's head dipped down.

Much like all else, Poppy's tongue wasted little time. She traced wet folds with the tip before it flattened to lap against the other woman's entirety and stopped only to brush against the sensitive bud just enough to prompt a barely restrained moan from above. Alisaie's hips rocked forward to greet Poppy's mouth, urging her onward until a frantic rhythm was established between them.

Alisaie's hand soon found Poppy's head, her fingers carding through the ruddy strands of her hair. She gripped the Warrior tighter than expected with nails that dug into her scalp and fingers that pulled, aching, needy, clearly wanting. Poppy didn't mind the rough treatment in the slightest and the twinge of pain even sent a jolt of heat downward through her own body. The nails that gripped her lover's back sharpened in response and dragged downward with enough pressure that they would surely leave welts in their wake.

Poppy glanced up through her lashes to see that Alisaie's eyes were shut tight, her face flushed, the tips of her ears dusted pink. The Warrior made a game of watching how her expression shifted minutely with each different stroke of her tongue. She pressed against her entrance, pushing inward just enough that the other woman's lips parted just so in a soft whine. She traced her length with quick flicks that made her eyelids flutter and her brows pull together. She then moved her mouth up to find the most sensitive nerves that urged Alisaie's head to loll forward while she breathed out a ragged exhale. The grip on her hair tightened and tugged and Poppy couldn't help but continue that same motion to drive her to the very brink.

"Poppy, I—"

The murmur was cut short when the Warrior pressed her lips around that certain spot and sucked, her tongue lapping against the wetness until Alisaie unraveled above her with a cry that was muffled only her own hand. Her hips jerked forward to meet her mouth one final time and her legs quivered as they pressed in around Poppy's head.

The Warrior lingered for only long enough that Alisaie was able to settle back against the boulder, panting in her afterglow. Poppy moved to shift back, but paused as a sudden idea found her in her own delirious state. The soft, pale skin that brushed against her cheek was far too enticing to leave untouched and—in a moment of near-feral desire—she marked Alisaie with fangs sharp enough to draw blood. She listened to the other woman gasp at the sensation of teeth sinking into unmarred flesh, felt the grip of the hand still on her head tighten, and then licked at the coppery wound of her own creation. She knew it'd soon bloom into a bruise that would make her claim clear. Though it would be hidden beneath layers of clothing, she would still know that Alisaie was hers, and hers alone.

Bleary satisfaction made a purr rumble deep in Poppy's chest. The wilds shifted around them, filling the air with a rustling of foliage that masked Alisaie's heavy breaths. The other woman gazed down at her, perhaps still too stunned to speak, her pale lashes fluttering against the sunlight that managed to push past even the shadows that hid them in their brief respite. Poppy flashed her a simpering smile and finally ducked out of her grasp to stand. She was pleased enough by it all that she was able to ignore the painful crack of knees sore from kneeling on the rough ground.

"That's enough rest, I'd say. Better get going. Can't have our friends wonder what's keeping us," the Warrior said cheerily. She backed up and watched with concealed amusement as Alisaie's brow furrowed.

"You can't just—Poppy!"

Poppy spun on her heel and hopped through the brush to find the path again, her tail flicking behind her all the way from her delight. She didn't bother to look over her shoulder and knew full well that her partner glared daggers into her back as she sprang to her feet to sort out her garments.

"Hurry up, or I'll leave you behind," the Warrior called out.

The groan of frustration she was met with was proof enough that she would later pay dearly for the whole detour, but all Poppy could do was grin and look forward to whatever punishment Alisaie would enact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy almost shb launch! i was nervous so i wrote this mess to pretend that the msq won't likely rip my heart out. hope you enjoyed some extremely indulgent smut.


	3. {summer indigo shirt} {high-quality}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alisaie is a shirt thief. poppy retaliates.  
> set some time in the future.  
> sexual content ahead: neck biting, fingering

The summer heat was unbearable. Evidently, the sun saw it fit to scorch them all that season and beat down on the land with its unyielding rays from dawn to dusk, day in and day out. At times it felt like not even the Seven Hells could compare. The dog days, as they were often called, were very much upon them, nipping at their heels with incessant teeth.

Despite that, the warmth of the bath was somehow still a pleasant sensation, even during the hottest parts of the day. Steam swirled around Alisaie to lick at her skin with faint floral notes of rose as she dried herself off. She sighed, glad to be free of the unpleasant film of sweat that had prompted the bath in the first place. Simply lazing about all morning was enough to make her feel like she'd run across the entirety of Thanalan in one go.

Alisaie tied the long, still-damp strands of her hair behind her head with the usual red ribbon in a loose bow, leaving it to the heated air to dry it the rest of the way. As she made her way to the chair she'd laid her fresh clothes on, something tangled beneath her feet. She tripped, but managed to catch herself on the chair before she fell to the ground. It was with a frustrated groan that she bent over and grabbed Poppy's shirt off the tiled floor.

It was a favored one among her partner's collection, made of a pale, airy cotton that sported cropped sleeves and pretty silver buttons. A well-crafted garment—and an expensive one, if Alisaie remembered correctly. All the more reason why it had no business being tossed carelessly on the floor. But, the other woman had a bad habit of leaving her clothing where it was shed.

"Honestly, one would think she was allergic to hanging things up," Alisaie muttered to herself with a shake of her head.

She draped the shirt over her arm with the thought to give the Warrior an earful, but paused when a different, more entertaining thought came to mind. And so instead of her own, Alisaie pulled on Poppy's shirt, admiring the pleasant softness of the cotton as it dragged against her skin. Though it was a bit tight on her, it would do. 

"Well, it's mine now," she whispered and felt quite pleased with herself. "That's what you get for not cleaning up after yourself."

Alisaie did up a button—but only one, purposefully—and slipped on her smalls before she took the rest of her unworn clothing in hand, wondering all the while how long it would take Poppy to notice. The game was afoot when she stepped out of the balmy bathroom.

The adjacent room was no less warm. The midday sun set Poppy's quarters alight with a bright glow that painted everything it touched with a golden hue, including the Warrior herself. Poppy was slumped on a plush armchair near the table, with her legs dangling over one of the arms and her head lolled over the other, wearing nothing but a dark camise and lacy smalls. One of her ears flicked towards the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut.

"How was your bath, dearest?" she asked without moving her eyes from the crumpled piece of parchment she held over her head. She scowled at it, likely picking through the words in her own slow way. Upon closer inspection, Alisaie saw it was a section of the morning paper.

"Refreshing," she replied as she made her way over to the wardrobe. 

"Reckon it'll be my turn next. Heat's unyielding today," Poppy said, sounding bored. She yawned and tossed the paper onto the table. Clearly, the articles weren't exciting enough to entertain her.

Alisaie hummed in bemused agreement and began to hang up her clothes—rather pointedly, if that was possible, making sure that the sound of the hangers hitting the rack was pronounced. When she glanced over, she saw that Poppy finally looked at her. The Warrior stared, seeming a bit bemused herself by the racket, but her brow soon quirked with what Alisaie suspected was realization. 

"Something the matter?" she asked airily, and had to turn her face away to hide the wry smile that found her lips. 

"Is that..." Poppy trailed off and Alisaie heard the chair creak beneath her. "Is that _my_ shirt?" 

When Alisaie was done putting away her things, she turned to see Poppy had sat upright and scowled at her just as intently as she had at the paper. It was hard to keep a straight face, seeing how perplexed she looked. 

"Oh, this old thing? I've no idea." Alisaie said, feigning surprise and confusion. She looked down at herself as if she'd never seen the shirt before. "I found it, so I suppose that makes it mine now."

"It's _obviously_ mine. It doesn't even fit you right," Poppy shot back in an instant. Her eyes flitted up and down Alisaie—slowly at that, clearly liking what she saw despite her petulant tone. "Come closer so I can get a better look."

Alisaie let a smirk slip. It seemed she'd been found out sooner than she would've liked. With an exaggerated sigh, she still gave in to her love's whims. "Fine," she said curtly and made her way over in slow, measured steps.

She stood before the other woman a moment later. Poppy looked up at her through narrowed eyes, but they went wide when Alisaie leaned over. She let her hands fall onto both of the chair's arms to box her partner in and leaned forward even further, making it quite obvious that she wore nothing underneath the shirt in question. Poppy's brows shot up at the suggestive position and Alisaie caught her eyes lingering downward before they flicked up to meet hers again.

"Well?" Alisaie asked with an innocent tilt of her head.

Poppy's tongue briefly flicked out to wet her lips before the tiniest of smiles graced them. "I can't quite tell if it's mine from this angle. Try turning around," she suggested, sounding a bit too earnest to truly be innocent.

The mischief that edged the Warrior's expression suggested a game was still afoot. Alisaie smiled and stood up straight, eager to play along, and turned as the other woman had requested. She made a show of it, of course, and moved slow to let Poppy have a good look at her before she glanced over her shoulder.

"Did that help?"

"Oh, it did."

By the time she saw Poppy grin, Alisaie already knew she'd fallen right into a trap. The other woman reached up and grabbed her hips, laughing at the soft sound of surprise that escaped Alisaie when she was yanked downwards. She plopped right onto Poppy's lap, where she was held in place by strong arms that wrapped around her waist.

"Much better," Poppy said cheerily. "Now I can inspect thoroughly." The singsong way she spoke lilted downward, sounding more like a suggestive purr, and Alisaie knew she was in for it then.

The hands that held her in place began to wander. They curled around her sides to slide up the front of the shirt and slowed only when they reached her breasts. A gasp fell past Alisaie's lips at the sensation of fingers that grazed purposefully against her to rub through the thin cotton, and the warm breath that pushed against the back of her neck as Poppy hummed in consideration. She certainly knew how to make a grand show of her little inspection. When she felt deft fingers flick the single button that held the shirt closed undone, Alisaie realized it was just the beginning—not that she minded, of course.

"Well?" she asked again, but the question stuttered when her partner's hands dove beneath the shirt.

Alisaie's back arched to push herself further into the teasing grasp that found her, palming her breasts and flicking wandering fingers against their pink buds. Poppy hummed again and she felt the other woman's lips curl into a smile against her neck when another stifled gasp followed at a particularly insistent squeeze.

"Mistress Leveilleur, I do believe you've stolen my shirt," Poppy said, announcing her verdict with much gravity. Alisaie couldn't help but chuckle at her dramatic flair, but hearing the other woman refer to her with such formality made her go a bit warm.

"Ah, so I've been caught," she admitted and did her best to sound defeated. "A pity."

"The scandal! Should I call the guards to arrest you?"

"I beg forgiveness. 'Twas a crime of passion," Alisaie said in playful defense. "A provoked one at that, seeing as the garment in question very nearly killed me from its inconspicuous place on the bathroom floor," she added with a tart note and glanced over her shoulder with a glare. She was met with a sheepish grin.

"Now, now. _You're_ the criminal here," was Poppy's pouted rebuttal. The hands still on Alisaie's breasts gave her a pinch, which prompted an indignant little squeak that made Poppy chuckle and Alisaie sharpen her glare. "But, I'm feeling generous. I think I'll spare you time in gaol and punish you myself instead."

The words were whispered against her skin, prickling like little nettles, and the restrained hunger behind them made the flare of warmth already coiled in her gut travel further downward. Alisaie looked back ahead to hide her wry smile.

"I leave myself at your mercy, Warrior. Do as you see fit," she said, replying to the verdict with forced seriousness and just as much formality.

Behind her, Poppy let out a pleased sounding little laugh. "I'll go easy on you," she reassured. Before Alisaie could even think up a quip in reply, teeth were already grazing against her shoulder. "Or will I?" she murmured. The nails that dragged against Alisaie's chest suggested she wouldn't.

The other woman's mouth soon found the side of her neck, where her fangs slid against skin still dampened by her wet hair. It always felt like a dangerous sensation—that sharpness that could easily harm, but never did. It was just firm enough to prompt gooseflesh and send a pleasant jolt down through Alisaie's body, especially when paired with the warm breath that followed and the hands that still palmed her breasts.

Those deft, calloused hands moved downward then, over her ribs and her stomach to grip Alisaie's hips with enough pressure to make her squirm impatiently atop her partner's lap. She heard Poppy make a scolding sound behind her—soft and light and followed by a nip of her teeth that made Alisaie grip the arms of the chair and go still. She was rewarded with hands that dipped downward again to just barely brush against the insides of her thighs.

The air was already warm enough as is. Their flush skin and the friction of fingers that dragged against the front of her smalls was enough to make it feel like fire filled the room. Alisaie canted her hips forward with each stroke—or tried to, at least, if it weren't for the unyielding hand that still gripped them. The Warrior's tortuous pace truly was a punishment.

" _Poppy_ ," Alisaie murmured after a while—whined, rather—when she could take no more.

Poppy simply laughed at her suffering. "So impatient," she said with a _tsk_ of her tongue. "All right. I s'pose you've learned your lesson, my darling shirt thief."

Alisaie almost protested that, eager to bring up her partner's messiness again, but didn't get a chance to when a hand very abruptly slipped down the front of her smalls to continue her punishment.

Slick fingers traced her folds and outlined her nerves with a pace that was lazy, languid, still very much teasing. But each purposeful brush of skin wound Alisaie up tighter and tighter, as if she were a coiled spring. Her nails dug into the plush fabric of armchair to anchor herself, to draw out the mounting pleasure that threatened to boil over at any moment. But Poppy's fingers wandered further and soon found their mark, both sliding inside at once. 

Alisaie tossed her head back in a silent gasp, which invited her partner to kiss her neck with more intensity. Her tongue and teeth were just rough enough and her free hand roamed upward to find her breast again, freeing Alisaie's hips to jerk forward and meet her fingers at each thrust. It all went on for several laborious breaths in a pace that turned frantic.

Then Alisaie gasped again and tasted the summer air, thick and heady and somehow sweet, still painted by bright rays that she saw through the pale lashes of her half-lidded eyes.

The shirt was all but forgotten until she slumped back against Poppy, who removed her fingers and wrapped her arms around her waist, kissing her neck sweetly all the while. She felt the fabric as a damp barrier between them that was unpleasant in the heat. 

"You've gotten me all sweaty again," Alisaie lamented accusingly, her voice soft and a bit worn. 

"Time for another bath," Poppy said. "I'll join you this time." An affectionate purr rumbled under the words. Alisaie hummed her approval, too dazed in her afterglow to reply.

Despite their agreed plan, neither of them moved for a long while. They sat piled in the armchair together, dozing as another long summer day unfolded lazily around them. The dog days were not so bad when spent together like that, even with the heat. Eventually, however, Alisaie stirred. Being coated in sweat was something she could do away with.

She detangled herself from Poppy's sleepy embrace despite her soft sounds of protest and stood to wordlessly offer the other woman her hand. Poppy took it, but remained seated for a moment as she gazed up at Alisaie. Her eyes wandered in a way that somehow made her feel even warmer.

"Keep the shirt," Poppy said a bit wryly. "It looks better on you anyway."

"Really? All that fussing and you're just going to give it up?" Alisaie asked with mild disbelief. 

"Honestly, I think I'm going to leave my shirts out more often. You seemed to really enjoy my _fussing,_ after all."

Alisaie rolled her eyes at the toothy grin that followed. She yanked her partner to her feet and into an embrace so she could wipe the smug look off her face with a kiss.

In the end, their bath was long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what can i say? it's a nice shirt. 👀


	4. the trouble with cherries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a pie is left unbaked.  
> set some time in the future.  
> sexual content ahead: oral sex, fingering

Sticky red splotches dotted Poppy's fingers and speckled her palms, coated the entirety of the cutting board and the two bowls laid out before her, and made the counter look like the sight of a grizzly murder. The true nature of the scene was far less sinister, of course—a bit of baking never hurt anyone, despite the vivid mess the fruit of choice made. 

The trouble with cherries was that they tended to stain.

"How is it coming, darling?"

Poppy's ears flicked back towards the sound of the question. A wry smile pulled up the corner of her mouth and she replied without looking away from the cherry held in her fingers, "Well enough, no thanks to you."

The scoff she heard urged her to turn her head and she was greeted by the sight of Alisaie, who sat at the table with a book opened before her. "That's not fair. You offered to do it," she reminded her pointedly.

"Did I?" Poppy asked, feigning forgetfulness. She tilted her head in thought as she reached for another cherry. "Well, it's a _lot_ of work for one person," she pouted over her shoulder and wagged her knife to punctuate the reprimand. Its edge caught the orange glow of twilight that slipped in through the window and Alisaie shook her head at the sight, as if in disbelief.

"You had better get back to it, then. I'll continue supervising from back here," she said with a playfully dismissive wave of her hand. Her gaze fell back on the book, but then flicked up again, narrowed and almost sultry. "...As well as continue to enjoy the view."

It was Poppy's turn to scoff while her partner eyed her from behind. The open-backed camise she wore was likely to thank for the attention. She turned to hide the pleased smile that found her lips and let out a long-suffering sigh as she continued the chore at hand.

The other trouble with cherries was pitting them. It was simple though arduous work, especially when nearly two ponzes of the damned things needed to be relieved of their seeds. Despite her complaining, Poppy really didn't mind so much. A lifetime of handling blades left her hands perfect for the task, after all.

The small paring knife slid easily through each cherry and an expert flick of dexterous fingers sent another pit into the bowl. The tiny halved fruit was left to bleed across her hand, sitting on her palm for only a moment before it was raised to her lips. She'd earned a little reward for all her hard work. 

Poppy felt eyes burn into her from behind all the while. She made a show of licking a bit of juice from her fingers with utmost care. Bright and sweet and perfectly ripe, with a lingering floral note that hung on the back of her tongue like a petal. Invigorated by the taste, Poppy reached for the next cherry. The sooner they were pitted, the sooner they could be baked into a pie. 

But it wasn't very long before a distraction came in the form of long arms that wound around her waist. The final trouble with cherries, as Poppy had learned, was that they attracted pesky thieves.

"You're not going to offer me one?" The question came off as just a bit offended, perhaps even scolding. "I want a taste." The words tickled the side of Poppy's neck, along with several strands of snowy hair that fell over the taller woman's shoulder as she leaned over. 

"Pit some yourself and you can eat as many as you want," was Poppy's huffed reply, on the cusp of playful annoyance. The thoughtful hum that came from above sent a pleasant jolt down her spine, as did the tightened grip on her waist. 

"Your deft hands suit this task far better than mine," Alisaie argued. Her fingertips pressed against Poppy's sides as if to prove a point, but did little else aside from make her giggle.

"Sounds to me like you're just lazy."

Another cherry lost its pit in the time between the jab and Alisaie's reply. "Not even the sweetness of cherries can curb _your_ tartness, it seems," she said, sounding tart herself.

Poppy grinned, feeling like she'd been issued a challenge. She put down her knife and reached for a pitted cherry instead. "You think so? Let's find out." She popped the fruit into her mouth and pursed her lips, deep in thought. Her gaze then found her partner's, who watched her with bemused anticipation. "You're right," Poppy announced. "I still think you're lazy and don't deserve any cherries."

Alisaie sighed at the verdict, looking defeated, but a spark of mischief lit up her tone when she next spoke, "I suppose I'll just have to make do, then." 

She reached for Poppy's hand and gave her wrist a gentle tug, guiding it up towards her face where—to Poppy's surprise—her tongue darted out. It slid against the pads of her fingers in a languid and deliberate way before she had the audacity to take them into her mouth. 

She was quite thorough in her tasting. Every bit of cherry juice was licked away with zeal, each finger sucked clean, all without breaking eye contact. She stared at Poppy from beneath those long lashes of hers even as she released her hand, still close enough that her breath tickled her skin. Despite her best efforts to look unimpressed, the Warrior felt her face go warm at the blatantly suggestive display. She wondered if her cheeks were painted as red as her hands had been.

"Gods above, you're dramatic," Poppy said. She rolled her eyes when Alisaie flashed her a triumphant look, as if she'd just won an unspoken bet. "Fine. Here—"

Poppy plucked another cherry from the bowl and held it up. However, before her partner could claim her prize, she pulled the fruit away from her parted lips to instead toss it into her own mouth. Seeing Alisaie's look of utter betrayal made it taste even sweeter. 

"You're horrible," the other woman said through Poppy's laughter, which was more of a cackle. She bowed her head to murmur against her neck, "Absolutely _horrible_."

Poppy simply grinned. It was apt revenge in _her_ eyes. She wriggled in Alisaie's grip until she was given enough space to turn around and face her. "And what are you going to do about it?" she murmured in return, staring up at her love in a defiant sort of way.

The hands that had drifted down to her hips tightened their grip in a silent answer. One of them found its way to Poppy's face, where it tilted her chin up and a thumb grazed her lips. Alisaie was stoic for a moment of consideration and her head dipped down again to close the space between their heights.

"I'll take what I want, one way or another," she whispered. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth to betray her before it fell against Poppy's to kiss the red from her lips.

The Warrior felt small and almost helpless beneath her, especially being trapped in place like she was with her back pressed against the counter. But pleasant heat sank in her gut and she let Alisaie take the lead, parting her lips with no hesitation. The lingering flavor of cherry was bright between them, tasting of sunlight and wind and perfect summer days. Alisaie chased the taste in the same deliberate way she did on her fingers, her movements deep and desperately hungry. Poppy felt she might be devoured at that rate, but had no intention of pulling away. She offered herself up instead, laughing gently into her love's mouth as she threw her arms around her neck.

Alisaie's hands wrapped around her in turn and before Poppy knew it, she was hoisted up onto the counter. The cutting board was displaced, shoved against the bowls that sat behind her, causing a loud clatter of glass that went unheard. Plans of baking were long discarded in favor of the excitement Poppy found herself swept in.

She caught Alisaie's lip between her teeth and tasted the sweet sound of surprise she was rewarded with. Blindly, she tangled her fingers into her blouse, her hands guided by a growing hunger that gnawed its way down her body. She wondered if the cherry juice left on her might stain the crisp white cotton with how roughly she grasped it. Alisaie startled her from those worries when she pulled away from their kiss only for her lips to find the side of the Warrior's neck.

Her hands slid upward from her hips and beneath the hem of her camise, hitching the fabric up as they crept along. Poppy gasped as the other woman's teeth sank into her pulse and her fingers teased the supple skin of her breasts. Evidently, Alisaie wasn't yet done with her meal, and her head soon drifted downward further until her mouth replaced her fingers. Her tongue swirled along each pink bud, sucking and then biting with mounting fervor.

Poppy tried to come up with some sort of quip, something to tease her lover with, some comment about pies and cherries—but no clever words came. Only a soft, strangled sound managed to tumble past her lips. Their exchange was wordless, as such things between them usually were, but no words were needed with how their bodies spoke for them with wandering hands and lips and teeth.

Poppy's eyes fluttered open when she felt the other woman pull away, their silent language momentarily muted. She watched Alisaie fall to her knees before her with a sort of reverence often offered from a knight to her queen. Her thumbs hooked beneath the band of Poppy's shorts and tugged them downward with her, taking her smalls along with them. The Warrior shifted up to let the fabric pass over her thighs and observed, mesmerized, as Alisaie's mouth found her stomach and then her hips and soon traveled even further down.

"Gods, Ali," Poppy murmured, finally finding her voice, and it ended in a breathless giggle when Alisaie's lips edged up the inside of her bare thigh. "Really? In the kitchen, right on my counter?" Her head lolled forward and she peered at the other woman through the messy copper of her fringe, grinning despite the accusatory words. 

Alisaie paused her kisses to rest her cheek on Poppy's lap. She looked up at her sweetly, innocent as can be. "Can you blame me?" she asked. "I'm famished."

Poppy would've rolled her eyes at that, but the way she spoke—so purposefully unassuming yet truly hungry—sent a pleasant jolt of heat downward to where Alisaie's mouth crept towards. It wasn't long before her tongue made her intent clear.

Poppy quickly forgot about the misery of pitting cherries. The only thing she could think of was the warmth and wetness between her legs and the deft tongue that danced against her. Alisaie moved with restrained slowness, restless and barely patient, so eager to prove herself—just as she always was. When she pressed past her folds and into her enough to make Poppy's hips jerk forward, the Warrior's hand found purchase among the snowy tufts on her lover's head to hold her close. A pleased hum rumbled along her at the touch and urged Poppy to rut against her mouth again and again.

She watched Alisaie through the heady haze of pleasure, seeing the pink of her tongue dart and slide across her with expert ease, and admired the pretty white of her lashes pressed against flushed cheeks, pale brows drawn together in concentration. Her eyes fluttered open just then, as if she felt the weight of the gaze that fell on her.

"Trying to bribe me after making me do all the work, hm?" Poppy asked. It was hard to keep the words even but she managed, and traced the length of the other woman's pointed ear as she spoke, feeling breathless.

Alisaie paused only for long enough to reply, "Is it working?" Her voice was rough and her breath warm, grazing against Poppy in an enticing way. 

"Keep it up and you'll find out," she purred and gave her lover's hair a tug to pull her attention back to her task.

Alisaie relented, but had the gall to smirk up at her as she lifted Poppy's leg over her shoulder, clearly rising to the challenge. The shift in position gave her better access to deepen her strokes. Poppy's back arced to push herself even closer her mouth and her tail lashed behind her to knock onto the bowls. The scent of cherry surrounded her, strong enough that she could almost taste it when she gasped as a finger pressed into her. 

Alisaie's tongue was often so sharp when she spoke. It was softer then as it lapped against her to wordlessly lavish her in attention, though just as intense. Poppy was soon rewarded with a second finger that joined the first to thrust within her with equal intensity. They curled inward just so and dragged along a particular spot that made Poppy's legs quiver. 

"Fuck, Ali—"

She didn't have time to finish the thought before Alisaie's mouth found the most sensitive nerves and flicked against them, relentless and focused. Her release hit her with such a sudden intensity that all went white behind her eyelids.

By the time she came to her senses, Alisaie was standing again. She licked her lips in all her triumph, looking sated as a lion recently fed. But Poppy was still hungry and grabbed a fistful of her shirt, yanking her down to taste herself among faint notes of sweet cherry. 

"Had your fill?" Poppy asked when they pulled apart, voice ragged but amused.

Alisaie's smile should have been enough of a warning, but Poppy was still too dazed to catch the mischief in it.

"Not quite."

When she leaned over, Poppy thought she was in for another treat, but instead watched Alisaie grab the entire bowl of pitted cherries. Then, with one final smug look, she darted out of the kitchen, leaving Poppy disheveled and stunned atop the counter. 

"Are you _serious?_ " Poppy yelled after her. She heard no more than a distant laugh in reply and heaved a frustrated groan. "Fine, bake the bloody pie yourself, then!" she added.

Remnants of cherry juice stuck to her fingers as she leaned back on the counter, but Poppy could only grin. Seducing her wouldn't save Alisaie from the punishment of cleaning the mess up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i needed a break from sad shb stuff and this kinda just happened lol. i never get tired of writing these two bickering.


	5. alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a victory well-earned is celebrated.  
> takes place after shb (during ch 8 of [burn away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19486354/chapters/46386124))  
> sexual content ahead: drunk sex, oral sex, fingering

It happened fast. Fingers wandered along each crevice of her armor and slipped expertly between every seam. She found the flushed skin hidden beneath and clawed at it, at all her weakest points, drawing gasps that were smothered in an instant by the bruising pressure of their mouths pressed together. Alisaie pushed her against the door and Poppy found herself caught between cold wood and the blazing warmth of the other woman's hunger.

She'd already lost herself along the way, having long tossed aside worries and titles and pretense somewhere between the first and fourth tankard offered to her by hands eager enough to appease gods. What felt like the entirety of the Crystarium sang her praises long into the night, loud enough to drown out any lingering sense of unease that clung to her. And by the time Alisaie's leg slid against hers and her knee found purchase between her thighs, Poppy was truly undone. 

She was left to whine into Alisaie's mouth, to beg without words as she was held in place and devoured piece by piece—fast, but not fast enough. Gods, she wanted _more,_ and her back arched off the door to prove it and to push herself closer to Alisaie, whose arm slid between her waist and the wood as if to shield her from its chill. Her knee shifted up, closer, but never quite close enough. Poppy still rolled her hips against it, chasing that aching need. 

Her eyes opened a fraction. Just enough to see beyond the haze the alcohol pulled across her vision. It was like a dreamy veil, painted by the night in shimmering shades of blue and purple reflected off the rows of darkened doors that stretched far behind the snowy white of Alisaie's hair. All at once Poppy remembered where it was that they were and it made a laugh bubble up against her love's lips. They'd managed to make it all the way to her quarters only to stop just short at the door. Poppy's hand slid across it towards the knob. To find it locked was a shock, somehow.

Though, rationality was well out of her reach at that point.

"You've got to unlock it, you dolt."

Alisaie pulled away from her mouth to whisper the affectionate insult against her jaw. Poppy felt the grin that tugged on her lips as she spoke and saw it when her head turned back to pull Alisaie into another kiss. She made a soft noise of annoyance that was meant to be a retort, but was too occupied with catching Alisaie's bottom lip between her teeth to actually say it out loud. 

She fumbled in her pockets and somehow managed to fish out the key. Her hand found its way back to the doorknob where it slid into the lock—after an attempt or six. It was difficult, however, to remember which way it was meant to turn. The impatient grumble that scratched the back of her throat did little to aid in her blind, helpless pawing. It was only when Alisaie's hand slid down her arm and grazed the pulse at her wrist and finally wrapped around her fingers that the key turned and the lock was undone with a satisfying _click_. 

The door gave way, opening up to yawning darkness that swallowed them up. With nothing to hold her upright, Poppy stumbled backwards, braced by Alisaie's arm until she was caught by the edge of a table. She squeaked and Alisaie gasped, but their sounds of surprise melted into laughter in an instant.

"Clumsy," Alisaie hummed near her ear, sweet and teasing. The singsong way she said it and the warmth of her breath made Poppy giggle in delight and anticipation both. 

"So're you." The words slurred and she was glad the table was there to hold them up. Still, she grinned at Alisaie through the dizzy blur of her vision after she leaned back far enough to see her face.

Poppy almost pulled her back in for yet another kiss when she saw Alisaie outlined by the light that poured in from the hall, glowing at the edges and beautiful and so  _alive_ , smirking at her from beneath lashes made of snow. Instead, she gave her a playful shove to free herself. Their game of chase was still very much afoot, after all. The room was cloaked by shadow again after Alisaie stumbled back to pull the door shut. She sealed them both inside of their lightless sanctuary with another _click_ of the lock.

"Too dark," Poppy murmured, more to herself. It felt like a funny thing to say after being drenched in light for so long.

She made her way across the room, blind and nearly tripping over the very air itself that somehow tangled beneath her feet. By some miracle, she managed to find the window and gave the drawstring a yank to pull back the curtains, revealing the night.

The cosmos swirled before her like a performer on a grand stage with skies that stretched impossibly far overhead and stars that danced within their inky sea, twinkling, too vast to count. It was guided by the pearly glow of the moon and orchestrated around the Tower that pulsed like a crystalline beacon. 

"Beautiful—"

The word crawled up Poppy's throat to crack her voice. The sight had plucked some sort of too-raw nerve within her that made tears prick the corners of her eyes. It was too much to think about too soon, so she turned to hide from it and found Alisaie instead.

She stood across the room, her back pressed against the door, watching, almost cautious. But she soon shed that caution and stepped into the space that stretched between them, wading through the figments of light the Tower spilled onto the ground like a mosaic of stained glass. And it was incredible, Poppy thought, how a person could speak such resolve with mere steps.

"We did it," she told Alisaie. She wanted to say something more, or perhaps something else entirely. _We won the most difficult battle yet, we've earned this night, we're alive_ —but language failed her and her tongue remained twisted and useless in her mouth.

Alisaie stopped before her. She nodded, and again Poppy was left to marvel at how such a simple gesture could hold such weight. Then Alisaie reeled her in as if to say _enough talk, enough thinking_ , and kissed her senseless once more.

Fire spread beneath Poppy's skin like delicate lace and hunger was a pulsing rhythm in her ears. It was almost like the light that'd pressed inside her not so long before. Bright, burning, just as needy and insistent. Alisaie's hands worked to make her forget that pain. She reminded her instead of her heartbeat and the heat that coiled within her, sinking steadily downward.

Fingers undid buckles and buttons and pulled layers of leather and metal away. They were both eager but clumsy, muttering their shared frustrations about over-complicated clothing. Poppy promised herself, in all her drunken fervor, that when she returned to the Source she would task Tataru with creating a simpler set of clothing. Something that would be easier to take off in just such moments. Something scant and lacy and _oh_ —all was soon shed and piled at their feet like discarded petals plucked away. They were left in nothing aside from smallclothes and bandages and aching warmth that bloomed between bare skin.

Alisaie tugged and Poppy followed. She was lead across the floor, kicking her boots off somewhere along the way. It was almost like a dance, each quick step set to some frantic beat they couldn't hear, but felt deep in their veins. It came to a halt only when Alisaie's legs bumped into the frame of the bed—a bit too hard and startling, it seemed, as she plopped down onto its edge with an indignant little squeak of surprise. She pulled Poppy along with her, who tumbled downward in a dizzy haze. The Warrior found herself on her knees between her love's legs, giggling as she rested a cheek on her lap.

"Clumsy," she teased, repeating Alisaie's earlier jab, and laughed again when she heard an offended huff come from above.

In a silly attempt to comfort her, Poppy's hand slid up Alisaie's leg and fluttered across her thigh, where she became distracted by soft skin. Her thumb paused to dip beneath the fabric of her smalls and traced the outline of her hip with a sharp nail. Alisaie breathed out a soft gasp at the touch that pulled Poppy's gaze upward. She saw bruised, bitten lips parted just so and a flush that sat high on her cheeks and the tips of her ears, painted there by the ale. The sight made Poppy's mouth go dry with want. Her grip fumbled but found the hem of Alisaie's smalls and tugged, discarding them somewhere in the shadows behind her.

She pushed Alisaie's legs wide apart and urged her to shift forward to the very edge, closer to an eager, awaiting mouth. The whisper of sheets clenched beneath fists spoke encouragement without words. So, the Warrior bowed her head and, without looking away from the searing gaze that fell on her, spoke that wordless language with her reverent tongue like a prayer.

Her movements were clumsy and inelegant, her pace too hard and too fast. But Alisaie seemed not to mind. Her hips jerked forward to meet Poppy's mouth at every rough drag of her tongue. She made little sounds all the while—whimpers and whines and demanding groans that made Poppy devour her harder, if only to hear more. She traced slick folds, edging upward, pausing only to circle the bud and then suck, before falling back down to press her tongue inside. A mad, senseless rhythm that practically had Alisaie singing along with it.

Blunt fingernails dragged along her scalp, just as rough and relentless as Poppy's mouth. Alisaie pulled on her hair and pinched the delicate skin of her ears with enough force to make pleasant sparks of pain flash down each notch of Poppy's spine. She groaned between the other woman's legs, her tongue lapping harder against her and earning more sweet sounds in return. She tasted her so deeply, her worship far too devout for someone often called a sinner. Alisaie tugged her closer still, each cant of her hips becoming more desperate than the last. 

 _More_ , she begged with her hands. Poppy gave it to her, chasing her along a winding, mounting road that took her far above the aches of battle. It wasn't long before she toppled down.

"Poppy—"

The way Alisaie said her name—like a breathless plea or a fervent prayer or something balanced precariously in between—nearly made Poppy come undone right after her. Then all was silent and still, aside from trembling thighs and sputtering breaths that came from above.

The hand that held her in place slid down to find Poppy's cheek. It reached for her chin and tilted it up so that she could meet her love's sated gaze. She was surprised when Alisaie's fingers drifted down further and slipped beneath her necklace—two thin bands of leather she'd forgotten she wore—only to give it a rough tug that demanded attention. Poppy was yanked upward into an awaiting smirk that curled Alisaie's lips and was reminded rather pointedly that the night was still young.

Poppy found herself on back. How she ended up there, she wasn't quite sure. Somewhere between the blur of Alisaie ripping off her breastguard and pantalettes and pushing her back to climb onto her so she could taste herself on Poppy's tongue. They were so close, suddenly, pressed together with nothing between them aside from a thin sheen of sweat and endless warmth. But it still wasn't enough.

The Warrior reached up, her hands flitting blindly against Alisaie's sides until she found her hips. She pulled downward as she rutted up, pressing them together to find that needed friction, despite how her body screamed at her from beneath her bandages to stop. Each cut and every bruise was apparent and willing to remind her of the numerous struggles that'd burned those wounds into her, but Poppy didn't care. She wanted more, wanted to feel something aside from the pain of her title and the fear of the death she'd just narrowly avoided. 

Alisaie pulled away, sensing Poppy's desperation. She read it in each shallow breath and every impatient whine that urged her hand to begin its work. It slid down the length of her body, brushing gently against each wound as if to wipe them all away, to make her forget, to remind her again of the here and now that they'd earned.

It was almost unfair how elegant and poised Alisaie always managed to be. She shouldn't have been so deft with ale singing in her veins. Yet she was, with long fingers usually wrapped around the hilt of a blade slipped inside her, one and then two. And she was just as relentless as Poppy had been, thrusting into her, into the wet mess she'd made of her, pressing deep to drag the pads of her fingers along each spot she knew would make her Warrior cry out her name. As she pushed Poppy ever closer to the edge, Alisaie exhaled into the hollow of her neck. Planted kisses along her collarbones. Dragged her teeth across her chest as if to taste the very beating of her heart.

 _You're alive_ , Alisaie seemed to say into each breath that they shared.

 _I'm alive_ , Poppy agreed as she threw her arms around Alisaie's neck in a hopeless attempt to anchor herself in the moment. She felt every cell in her body agree too, in the blood that rushed in her ears and lilted into a crescendo that made the stars she'd freed burst behind her eyelids.

They were both a mess. Panting and laughing and tangling together side by side on the sheets, their vigor spent. Poppy reached out to run her fingers through Alisaie's messy fringe and remind herself that she hadn't dreamt it all up. A purr rumbled lazily deep within her when she saw her love smile back at her and felt her lean into the touch.

"You know," Poppy whispered when she managed to find her worn voice, "you're pretty incredible in bed for someone without a real body."

The comment earned her a graceless snort. Alisaie's nose wrinkled, her expression caught between a smirk and a snarl. "And _you're_ incredible at ruining the mood," she said, tart as ever. "But, you can thank the Exarch for that particular miracle," she added with a rather pointed huff. Even then, her annoyance at the unfortunate man who'd earned her ire was thinly veiled.

"Maybe I will," Poppy shot back. Her teeth flashed in a grin that made Alisaie roll her eyes.

"Gods, I was _joking_ ," she said, sounding scandalized. She propped herself up on an elbow so she could better glare daggers down at Poppy. "Don't you dare."

Her voice drifted downward, rasping like a whispered warning that held an unspoken threat, and the sound of it made sparks of warmth rekindle within Poppy. She reached up to pull Alisaie in for yet another kiss among the countless number of kisses that lined the night.

Poppy was frantic all at once, with parted lips and sharp teeth that spoke her need. She was still so desperate—they both were, again. They didn't have to be, given how they won, how they had tomorrow and many tomorrows beyond. But the night was theirs to spent as they saw fit, and the Warrior and her lover wanted nothing more than to be reminded of their shared victory, over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i just wanted to write flowery post-shb smut. ((:


	6. adventurous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poppy brings home some curiosities from the market.  
> set some time in the future.  
> sexual content ahead: strap-ons, somewhat rough sex (light scratching, biting, and tail pulling)

The flickering light of the candles barely reached the bed. Weak beams of muddled oranges and reds stretched their frail arms as far as they could, just strong enough to cast inky shadows across sheets that shifted with each passing of a breath. Even in that scant light, the little vial shone like a ruby in the dim room.

It was uncorked and tipped onto awaiting fingers that took on a shine of their own from the oil inside. They were slicked, ready and eager to start—as was made obvious when they found their target in record time. Alisaie's fingers slid into her, two at once.

Poppy tossed her head against the pillow, lips parted in a silent gasp, and arched her back as Alisaie began to move within her. The pace was fast but she was ready for it, her own slick mingling with the oil, it's heat coiling in her gut like a serpent that dragged its fangs all the way up her spine. The contents of the vial was infused with the tiniest pinch of a ground up fire shard, meant to stimulate and warm. It was just what the shop owner had promised; a pleasant way to prepare for what was to come.

She met Alisaie at every thrust with a cant of her hips, each movement growing more desperate than the last. Long fingers reached deep, easing into her, stretching, and dragged along every nerve to set her alight with the gentle fire that coated her skin. The warmth was heady enough to fill her mind with hot coals and Poppy's eyes squeezed shut as her nails dug into the sheets to blindly search for something that could anchor her. It would have been so very easy to come undone from the preparations alone.

But, all too soon and before her climax could be reached, Alisaie's hand pulled away, leaving Poppy feeling empty and cold. She couldn't help the whimper that slipped through her teeth and past her lips, raw and bitten by her own fangs. When she opened her eyes, she was met with a pleased-looking smirk.

“I take it the oil was a success,” Alisaie said, amusement curling off the words like an enticing wisp of smoke. She tilted her head, long lashes heavy over her eyes, and observed the half-undone woman sprawled beneath her. “Ready?” she asked and shifted nearer. She sat between Poppy's knees, whose eyes were drawn downward towards her second purchase.

Strips of dark leather wrapped around Alisaie's waist and thighs, shining like dull satin beneath the candlelight. The bands were delicate and thin, much like the thing they held in place between her legs. Though, delicate was the wrong word, perhaps, as its slim girth had enough length to be a bit… intimidating. But the rubber reproduction was an average size for an adult Elezen—in the wise, reassuring words of the shop owner who meticulously crafted it.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?”

Poppy looked back up to see Alisaie’s brows drawn together just so. It seemed she took the moment of silence for hesitation. “Just admiring the merchandise,” Poppy reassured her with a grin, “and thinking about how… inventive some members of the alchemist’s guild are nowadays.”

Alisaie sucked in the sharp breath of a laugh that sounded like more of a snort. “Inventive indeed,” she replied with an incredulous bite. “I wouldn't have expected Ul’dah’s markets to harbor such curiosities.”

In truth, Poppy wasn't sure what drove her to seek out the odd shop tucked away in a corner of the Sapphire Exchange. Perhaps to see if the gossipy adventurer friend who'd claimed it was real was full of shite, but Poppy quickly ate her words of disbelief (and bought a souvenir or two, of course).

Alisaie really was a good sport, Poppy thought with fondness, for taking the shopping spree in stride and playing along with her whims. But if the hungry glint in her eyes was any indication, she was just as eager as Poppy to begin.

“Well,” Alisaie said after a moment. Her brows unfurrowed enough for one of them to quirk, matching the smirk that returned to her lips. “I can think of a better way to admire it.”

She leaned forward until the head of the cock brushed against the inside of Poppy's thigh. Her pulse sputtered to life in her throat from the motion and the implication of the hushed words both.

“Go on, then,” she urged (or teased or even begged) with a slight tremble in her voice. She hadn't quite decided which it was yet, but the coy flick of her tail against Alisaie’s arm and the way she spread her legs further apart was nothing short of an invitation. One which Alisaie quickly accepted.

More oil spilled onto the shaft until it was sufficiently slicked and the vial then discarded onto the bedside table, having fulfilled its purpose. Alisaie gazed down at her then, frozen for a moment as if shyness bit her. But her hands soon found Poppy's shoulders, slid down and over her breasts—pausing there to tease her for a moment—before they crept along her ribs and her stomach and downward still to where she ached the most.

Each fingertip made Poppy's skin sing beneath it and sprout goose flesh despite the warmth that danced across her and filled her up. She leaned into every lingering touch to chase those sparks and then watched, breath held, as Alisaie grasped her hip with one hand and aligned herself with the other.

Naked vulnerability crawled along her body and made her shiver from the heat that cooled into a sudden nervous chill. But she trusted Alisaie so wholly that she gave into the feeling of fragility that turned as heady and intoxicating as a glass of wine. So, she let go and let Alisaie take her.

The cock slipped into her easily, thanks to the oil and her own anticipation. It went inside ilm by ilm by impossible ilm, filling Poppy to what she thought was her limit and then a little more, until it was buried to the hilt. Her hand flew to her mouth on instinct and her teeth clamped down on her knuckle to stifle the moan that threatened to leap out of her throat. As Alisaie went still to allow her to adjust, Poppy stared wide-eyed at the shadows that flickered across the dark ceiling.

It was unlike anything she’d felt before; an intense fullness that was far too much, far too deep, and yet somehow still not enough to sate her. A painful pleasure that burned through her very core—and gods, she wanted _more_ of it.

“Is this all right?” Alisaie asked from somewhere high above her, cutting through the haze.

Poppy could hear her concern before her eyes came back into focus and saw it writ in her partner’s expression as well. Her hips bucked upward in a silent, desperate answer before she could reply.

“Yes—ah— _please_ ,” she groaned around the knuckle pressed in her mouth. “Keep moving.”

Begging it was, then, but Poppy hardly cared about dignity at that point. Upon hearing her desperation, the last of Alisaie's hesitation melted away. Her grip on Poppy's hips tightened and she eased out an ilm, then another, before she pushed back inside. Poppy gasped again and quickly became lost in the maddening dance that followed.

Alisaie was slow at first. Almost clumsy, fumbling at times and moving with exacting caution as she tested her range of motion, her hands digging into the sheets to find the best possible angle. It was a slowly lilting waltz that stoked the embers within Poppy to unbearable heat, but fell just short at each step that drove her nearer to the flame. She never reached quite deep enough or moved fast enough for Poppy, whose hips chased Alisaie's every time she pulled out, and canted upward to meet her when she slid back inside.

Alisaie gained her confidence quickly. She was as adept as ever and quick to learn—always so eager to please and to prove herself. The change of pace happened fast as her hand fluttered upward to pin Poppy’s hips down against the bed. Suddenly finding herself unable to move, a soft sound of protest escaped past Poppy's hand, but was cut off by a gasp when Alisaie leaned forward and plunged deeper.

“You like this, hmm?” she cooed a bit breathlessly. Another thrust, and another stifled gasp. She leaned even closer, still holding Poppy in place as her other hand reached up to grasp her wrist. “Let me hear you,” Alisaie murmured and pulled Poppy's bruised knuckle away from her mouth.

She was so close, her heavy braid sliding over her shoulder to graze Poppy's chest, and the warm breath of the order tickling her brow. When she slid nearly all the way out and then thrust back in, Poppy couldn't help but obey. She cried out and Alisaie looked down at her, just as lost in it all as she was. She moved a bit faster, a bit deeper, a bit rougher then; all to get Poppy to squirm beneath her and come undone.

“Ali, gods— _ah_! You’ll— I’m—”

Poppy couldn't formulate coherent thoughts, let alone get her tongue to cooperate in saying them. But it didn't matter. Alisaie claimed her mouth to taste them instead. It was a bit difficult with the disparity between their heights, but Poppy tossed her head back to be devoured by a desperate kiss. Teeth and tongues clashed, catching shared moans in between shuddering breaths and shaky exhales.

Poppy ached and burned, but it was all so painfully pleasant, driving her closer and closer to that desperate edge. Yet still, it wasn't _enough_. She reached up to grab at Alisaie’s waist and when her fingers tangled into the leather straps, she gave them a harsh tug.

“ _More_ ,” she whispered against Alisaie’s lips, her voice hoarse with need.

Alisaie breathed out what sounded like a chuckle, but was caught halfway between that and a moan. She lowered herself further until their bodies were flush and slid an arm beneath Poppy's waist to hold her close.

The pace reached a fever pitch. Alisaie fucked her so thoroughly that Poppy thought she might break, feeling small and vulnerable again and so desperately close to coming undone. Her fangs sunk into Alisaie’s shoulder in their newfound closeness, urging her onward, and found that spot at the juncture of her neck that always made her sing. She tasted salt and copper and heard Alisaie groan from it and move just a little faster.

Poppy pressed a cheek against her shoulder just as Alisaie’s teeth found her neck in return, marking her claim. _Mine_ , she seemed to say without words, and Poppy wound her arms around her neck to speak her silent agreement. Her hands dragged along her shoulders and down her back with claws that left welts in their wake. They both littered those little reminders of their love across each other's bodies with each breathless second that crept past.

Poppy's legs hooked around Alisaie's thighs, trembling with mounting pleasure. So close, just a little more and—

The oil was a bit _too_ effective in the end. Alisaie's pace faltered just a touch and she pulled out an ilm too far and the cock slipped out to slide wetly between them. They both froze and stared at one another for several dazed, confused breaths. Shared laughter soon bubbled up and shattered the tension.

“Forgive me,” Alisaie said through a chuckle that tickled Poppy's cheek. “I got a bit too vigorous there.”

“No worries,” Poppy replied and turned her head to flash her partner a grin. “You were perfect,” she added, leaning over to steal a kiss.

Alisaie relaxed above her. Her panting turned into more laughter as she moved down to be nearer. One kiss turned into several and soon Poppy was purring lazily, deep affection filling her up with warmth. For a while, they both simply enjoyed the closeness with wandering fingertips and shared breaths.

The warmth quickly rekindled a fire. Poppy’s hands slid down Alisaie’s back to paw at the leather around her waist yet again.

Alisaie caught Poppy’s lower lip between her teeth and gave her a playful nip before she propped herself up on her elbows. “Should I keep going?” she asked, her voice soft velvet. Her thumb found Poppy's lips in place of her own and swept across them with enticing slowness.

Poppy replied with a breathless nod. “Take me from behind this time,” she murmured, catching the pad of Alisaie’s finger on a fang as she spoke her request.

Alisaie considered her for a moment of surprise, but a hungry smile soon quirked her lips. “Turn around, then.”

They sorted themselves out, ignoring their exhaustion to move already aching bodies and heavy limbs into place. Poppy found herself on her hands and knees with Alisaie upright behind her. Alisaie’s hands slid up her thighs on their way to her hips and she let out a thoughtful little hum when she settled in place.

“Is this right?” Poppy asked, feeling unsure of herself with unfamiliar shyness. She looked over her shoulder to see Alisaie smile back at her.

“Perfect,” she replied, and it was reassuring until her smile turned lopsided. “The view from back here is nice, is all.”

Her gaze moved down Poppy's back, slow and appreciative, drinking in every detail with enough intensity that Poppy felt her face go warm. Alisaie ended her leering with a teasing little pinch on her backside.

“You—” Poppy squeaked in surprise. “Shut up and fuck me,” she huffed over her shoulder with playful indignation and flicked the tip of her tail across Alisaie’s face to muffle the all too pleased sounding chuckle that escaped her. She was pleased with herself when it silenced her partner.

She wasn't expecting Alisaie to retaliate, however. Especially not by grabbing the base of her tail and yanking her back—not hard enough to harm, but rough enough to send pleasant sparks up Poppy's spine. The cock slipped between her legs, missing its mark, but clearly meant to tease with too-gentle friction, if the smirk Alisaie wore was any indication.

Thankfully, mercifully, she was too impatient to tease for very long. Alisaie pulled back, adjusted, and plunged inside her in one swift motion.

That feeling of fullness returned, somehow still surprising enough to wring the air from Poppy’s lungs. Alisaie remained buried to the hilt for several long breaths. She gave Poppy's hips a squeeze in a silent question, waiting for permission to continue. Poppy pushed herself backwards in a wordless response that begged for more.

The thrusts hit just as deep, but the angle was different and grazed nerves that remained neglected before. Alisaie was slower, adjusting to the difference herself, but no less thorough. Her hands slid up Poppy's sides and back down to her hips, across her back, dragging her nails gently across her skin and the delicate base of her tail. She pulled ragged breaths from Poppy, left her breathless with each languid press into her and delicate touch across her.

It was odd to not look at Alisaie all the while. She couldn’t see her expression or watch her reactions or gauge when she would next move. But the blind surprise of it was a thrilling change.

“ _Oh_ —” Poppy grabbed fistfuls of the sheets to steady herself, “—I _like_ this.”

Behind her, Alisaie let out a pleased-sounding hum. Her hands moved up Poppy's back to grasp her shoulders and she was rewarded with a thrust that hit a particular, perfect spot.

Poppy's thighs trembled and her arms gave out. She dropped to her elbows, too far gone to stay upright. Alisaie followed to lean over her and curled a protective arm around her waist just as before to hold her close. They were pressed together again, both ignoring the screaming of their muscles, too lost in the maddening rhythm of their dance to care.

Alisaie’s breath was hot and wet on her neck, just enough to pull Poppy from her haze. She leaned up to press a ragged whisper into Poppy’s ear. “Come for me,” she murmured.

Alisaie's hand slid downward and landed between Poppy's legs. Her slicked fingers plucked at her nerves in time with her thrusts, unrelenting and unslowing until Poppy could take no more. Everything crested into white-hot heat, pulsing deep within her until she thought she might burst. Then it all crashed down and she was undone, unmade, unraveling with a cry. Alisaie held her through it and urged her along with deft hands until Poppy was left as no more than a trembling pile.

Everything slowed. Fingers withdrew and so did the fullness and Poppy was left with an empty feeling of relief that made her buzz pleasantly as she slumped forward into the cocoon of sheets that caught her. She was utterly spent and lost track of the seconds and minutes that crept along into what felt like bells. Eventually, Alisaie was pressed against her, freed from her leathers.

“How was that?” she asked softly. “Not too rough?” That sweet, needless concern returned to her voice. Her fingers slid up Poppy's side in a curious procession and landed on her cheek to cup it towards her own face, as if she checked to make sure Poppy was still alive and well and in one piece.

Poppy could only offer a weak laugh at first. She tipped her head up and admired the way the candlelight flickered across Alisaie’s face and the white of her mused, messy hair. The faint golden beams danced along the sheen of sweat drawn over her to highlight the welts left by Poppy's nails and the purplish outlines of her teeth on her shoulder. Marks that likely matched ones strewn across her own body. The thought sent a pleasant thrum of warmth through her.

“You were incredible,” Poppy hummed lazily, leaning into Alisaie's hand to press a kiss to her palm. “Thanks for trying that out with me.”

Alisaie smiled down at her, her thumb dragging along Poppy's jaw with gentle affection. “It's good to be adventurous from time to time, is it not?” she asked in playful disbelief and her smile quirked further into a flash of teeth. Ironic words, spoken to an adventurer of great fame. Her expression turned a bit smug then, her tone lilting down to tease, “You really seemed to enjoy yourself, after all.”

Poppy laughed again as Alisaie leaned down to nip at her pulse. The battle was already lost, but she could think of no better defeat. “No arguments there,” she managed to say before Alisaie claimed her lips with a sweet kiss.

But, Poppy couldn't be outdone for very long. Her restless hands fluttered down Alisaie's body, feather light and teasing across her sides and her hips. One of them slid between her legs to find her target slick and wet. Alisaie gasped against her, clearly not anticipating Poppy's mischief.

“Seems like _you_ enjoyed yourself too,” she purred past Alisaie's parted lips. Her fingers teased, dragged along bare flesh and nerve, pressed in just barely, just enough to get Alisaie to shudder above her. Then she withdrew—much to Alisaie's displeasure. She made a muted sound of frustration, but before she could protest, Poppy smirked up at her. “Up for another adventure?” she asked, coy and eager in equal measure.

Alisaie replied with a hungry smile. “Always,” she whispered and pulled Poppy into another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here's a fic i wrote about my catgirl getting the strap. happy valentines day!
> 
> ps. you can't tell me that alchemists work with oil and rubber all the time and then expect me to NOT think at least one of them has made something horny.


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